The silence of the VIP room shattered into a battlefield. The long-standing tension between Viktor and Alia finally erupted into an open confrontation. Viktor's "psycho" stubbornness clashed head-on with Alia's ice-cold pride.
Viktor: (Shouting, slamming his hand onto the table where the sword lay) "Childhood friend? Thousands in Moscow are obsessed with you, and you expect me to stay calm because of a 'friend'? How dare he touch you in front of my eyes?"
Alia: (Not flinching an inch, her voice laced with contempt) "Your shouting doesn't scare me, Viktor. Do you think I'm your prisoner? When your female 'colleagues' swarm around you, do I react like this? This is your insecurity, nothing else."
Viktor: (Lungeing toward her ferociously) "It's not insecurity; it's possession! I plucked you from the underworld and put you on a pedestal as a Goddess. Whether I wear this uniform or my mafia rags the law stays in my hands. And in my law, the penalty for touching you is death!"
Alia: (Locking eyes with him) "Then kill everyone! Turn this whole city into a graveyard! But remember, Viktor, you can force loyalty, but not respect. Nikolai respects me, something you clearly haven't learned yet."
Viktor: (Letting out a chilling, demonic laugh) "Respect? I worship you, Alia! But that doesn't mean I will share you. Tell those friendship stories to someone else. If I see that man near you again, I'll end him right in front of his child!"
Alia: (Fuming now) "How low can you sink, Viktor? Killing a father in front of his child...? You truly are an animal! This sick love of yours is suffocating me."
Viktor was trembling with rage as he closed the distance between them. His long white hair was a mess of fury. He gripped her shoulders tightly.
Viktor: "Yes, I am an animal! I am a psycho! And you are the Queen of this animal. You cannot escape this 'Dark Religion' of ours. There's no point in fighting, Alia you know very well that at the end of the day, you belong only to me."
Alia remained silent, staring deep into his eyes. Their heavy breaths collided. The argument was no longer just about words; it had become a psychological war where neither was willing to surrender. Viktor's rage reached its breaking point. He suddenly lunged forward and gripped the collar of Alia's shirt. His pull was so forceful that Alia struggled to breathe. His long white hair fell messily over his eyes, and his sapphire gaze held nothing but a primal, obsessive possession.
Viktor: (Gritting his teeth, his face inches from hers) "Why do you do this? Why do you force me to bring out the monster inside? I want to protect you, and here you are fighting me for the sake of another man?"
Alia couldn't speak. Though Viktor's violence weakened her physically, her eyes remained steady. In the midst of the struggle, a glass on the table tipped over, splashing a bit of water onto Alia's shirt and Viktor's hand. The cool touch of the water seemed to momentarily dampen the heat of Viktor's fury.
Gasping for air, Alia placed her hand over Viktor's, which was still gripping her collar. Her eyes were moist—not with fear, but with a strange hurt from witnessing Viktor's madness.
Alia: (In a low, broken voice) "Because you don't trust me, Viktor. You want to rule me, but you haven't learned how to love. Under this uniform, this sword... is there even a human being? Or are you just a bloodthirsty dragon?"
Viktor tightened his grip for a split second, but the lethal glint in his eyes transformed into deep agony. He saw the red marks his fingers had left on her throat. The droplets of water were sliding down her collar.
Suddenly, Viktor let go and stepped back. He looked at his own hand the hand that hadViktor: (His voice changing into a hollow rasp) "Trust? I don't even trust myself, Alia. I only know that without you, this power means nothing. When you look at someone else, I feel like my empire is collapsing."
Alia adjusted her shirt and let out a long breath. A heavy silence filled the room. Viktor turned toward the window, and Alia sat still in her slightly damp shirt. The argument may have ceased, but the volcano between them remained far from dormant. In the midst of the heated tension in the VIP room, Viktor suddenly began unbuttoning his uniform shirt. Still breathing heavily from rage and exertion, he shrugged the shirt off and sat down on the sofa. Alia watched him, her eyes tracing his heavily built, gym-honed physique. His Pectoral muscles were well-defined and glistening with sweat, making every contour of his body stand out sharply.
Viktor's long white hair cascaded over his damp shoulders, and the dragon tattoo on his skin seemed almost alive in the dim light. He sat with his head bowed, trying to control his temper, his chest heaving with every breath.
Alia stood frozen, watching her husband. This was the man who had just led thousands with a sword in his hand, yet here he was, just a restless lover. The ice-cold anger within her melted instantly. She walked slowly toward him and stood between his knees.
Viktor looked up, about to say something, but before he could utter a word, Alia leaned down and kissed him deeply on the lips.
Viktor froze. It was as if a bolt of lightning had surged through his body. All the previous rage and the shouting vanished in the wake of that single kiss. He wrapped his powerful arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him as if he couldn't believe she had forgiven him so easily.
Viktor: (Pulling back slightly, forehead resting against hers, breathless) "Alia... I... I don't want to lose you. This madness, this rage—it's all because I'm terrified of losing you."
Alia placed her hand on Viktor's damp, muscular chest, feeling his heart racing beneath her palm.
Alia: "Be quiet, Viktor. Don't speak, just feel me. I am yours, and no one else's."
There was no more fighting in the room, no more insecurity. There was only a weary high-ranking officer and his Queen, lost in a primal, profound love. Viktor pulled her even closer, his muscular frame still trembling slightly under her touch. The VIP room was now a cauldron of raw emotion. After Alia's sudden kiss, Viktor lost all restraint. He wrapped his powerful arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his sweat-glistening chest. Their kiss instantly deepened into a intense, deep kiss, a desperate exchange that replaced the echoes of their earlier argument.
Alia could feel every muscle in Viktor's gym-honed physique and the frantic thrumming of his heart against her own. Viktor poured all his rage, longing, and possessiveness into that kiss. Alia's fingers tangled in his long white hair, pulling him closer.
As the intensity peaked, Viktor's hands moved to Alia's shirt. The very collar he had gripped in anger moments ago was now being unbuttoned by his trembling, eager fingers. The cool dampness of the water on her shirt was instantly scorched away by the heat of his touch.
Viktor: (In a muffled rasp against her lips) "Alia... you are my only addiction. This uniform, this power it's all a lie if you aren't by my side."
He eased the shirt off her shoulders. In the dim light, the faint red marks from his earlier grip were visible on her skin. Seeing them, a flash of regret and overwhelming love crossed Viktor's sapphire eyes. He leaned down, pressing soft, lingering kisses over the marks, as if trying to heal with his lips what he had bruised with his hands.
Alia tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering shut in a trance of surrender. The contrast of Viktor's hard, muscular chest against her soft frame turned the room into a sanctuary of obsession. The storm in the VIP room had finally settled into a heavy, quiet stillness. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the floor where Viktor's discarded uniform and sword lay. On the bed, both were bare of clothing, their passion having finally spent itself. Their intimacy had concluded, leaving behind a lingering warmth in the air.
Alia was now half-reclining on the bed, clutching a thin bedsheet against her body to cover herself. Her long hair was a silken mess across her shoulders. Beside her, Viktor lay still, perhaps drifting into a deep sleep or simply savoring the aftermath of their connection.
Alia reached out and picked up her mobile phone. Holding the sheet up with one hand, she scrolled through her chats with a focused intensity. The blue light from the screen illuminated her face, highlighting the "Cold-blooded" sharpness in her gaze that had returned now that the fire had dimmed.
As she read through the messages, her expression was unreadable. Perhaps she was checking on Nikolai's safety, or maybe she was tending to the secrets of her own empire that never slept. Even in this moment of vulnerability next to Viktor, Alia was already back in her world of strategy and shadows.
Viktor, perhaps sensing her withdrawal, draped a heavy, muscular arm over her waist in his sleep, a subconscious gesture of possession. Alia glanced at his peaceful face for a second, then turned her eyes back to the screen. The calm of the room was shattered once again by a surge of renewed electricity. Alia suddenly wrapped her arms around Viktor's broad, muscular back from behind, her skin pressing against his gym-honed frame. The touch was like a spark to a powder keg; Viktor's body tensed instantly before he surrendered to the sensation.
He turned in one swift, predatory motion, pulling Alia beneath him into the depths of the bed. His long white hair cascaded over her face like a silken curtain as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, planting deep, frantic kisses that signaled his hunger was far from satisfied.
As his lips claimed her skin once more, the world outside—and the digital world within her phone—ceased to exist. The mobile phone slipped from Alia's hand, thumping softly onto the mattress, forgotten. The chats, the secrets, and the shadows were replaced by the raw, physical reality of the man hovering over her.
Viktor: (His voice a dark, vibrating rasp against her throat) "I knew you couldn't stay away from me for long. Throw away the world, Alia... just stay here, in my darkness."
Their passion started all over again, more intense and desperate than before. Viktor's muscular weight and Alia's defiant surrender merged into a rhythmic storm. The VIP room, once a place of law and order, was now a sanctuary for the Dragon and his Queen, where the only rule was their absolute, mutual obsession. The atmosphere in the VIP room ignited once more as Alia suddenly reached out, wrapping her arms around Viktor's broad, muscular back. The touch of her skin against his sweat-glistening, gym-honed frame acted like a spark to a powder keg. Viktor's body tensed for a heartbeat before he surrendered completely to her presence.
In one swift, predatory motion, he turned and pulled her flush against him. His long white hair cascaded over her face like a silken veil as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, planting deep, frantic kisses that made it clear his hunger was far from satisfied.
As his lips reclaimed her, the digital world she had been focused on vanished. The mobile phone slipped from Alia's hand, falling forgotten onto the mattress. The chats and the secrets were instantly replaced by the raw, physical reality of the man holding her.
Viktor: (His voice a dark, vibrating rasp against her throat) "I knew you couldn't stay away from me for long. Forget the phone, forget the world... just stay here and be mine."
Their passion erupted all over again, even more intense and desperate than before. Viktor's powerful, muscular weight and Alia's breathless surrender merged into a rhythmic storm. The VIP room, which usually stood for law and order, was now a sanctuary for the Dragon and his Queen, where the only rule that mattered was their absolute obsession with one another.